The Blessed Bran stood for a moment, gazing upon the carnage of the feast, and felt an implacable rage rise inside him. Then, across the hall, he spied an enormous kettle of burnished bronze and copper, silver and gold-so large it could easily hold sixteen human men at once; or three teams of oxen; or nine horses; or seven stags, three deer, and a fawn. A fire of oak logs blazed away beneath the prodigious vessel.

Seeing this, Bran thought, The prize is within my grasp, and taking a deep breath, he stepped boldly through the door. "Giants!" he called, "The feast is over! You have eaten your last corpse. I give you fair warning-doom is upon you!"

The giants were startled to hear this loud voice, and they were even more surprised when they saw the tiny man who made such a bold and foolish claim. They laughed in their beards and blew their noses at him. Two of them bared their horrible backsides, and the others mocked him with rude gestures. Up rose the chief of the monstrous clan, and he was the most repulsive brute of them all; taller than seven normal men, he was greasy with the blood of the meat he had been gorging.

Sneering, he opened his gate of a mouth and bellowed, "What you lack in size, you make up for in stupidity. I've eaten five of your race already today and will gladly count you amongst them. What is your name, little man?"

"Call me Silidons, for such I am," said Bran, hiding his true name behind a word that means "nobody." "You will have to kill me first, and I have never lost a fight I entered."

"Then you cannot have entered many. Today we will put you to the test." So saying, the giant lifted his massive hand and commanded two of his nearest fellows forward. "Seize him! Show this imbecile how we deal with anyone foolish enough to oppose us!"

The two giants rose and lumbered forth, their fleshy lips wide in distorted grins. Bran stepped forward, and as he did so, he grew in size to half again his height; another step doubled his size. Now the crown of his head came up to the giants' chests.

The giants saw this and were astonished but undaunted. "Is that the best you can do?" they laughed. Taking up their iron clubs, they swung at Bran, first one way and then the other. Bran leapt over the first and ducked under the second; then, leaping straight up into the air, he lashed out with his foot and caught one of the giants in the middle of the forehead. The great brute dropped his club and grabbed his head. Snatching up the enormous weapon, Bran swung with all his might and crushed the skull of the giant, who gave out a throaty groan and lay still.

Seeing his comrade bested so easily infuriated the second attacker. Roaring with rage, he whirled his heavy club around his head and smashed it down, cracking the flagstones. Bran stepped neatly aside as the club struck the floor, then quickly climbed the broad shaft as if it were an iron mounting block. When the giant lifted the club, Bran leapt into the brute's face and drove both fists into the giant's eyes. The ghastly creature screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his eyes with both hands. Calmly, Bran picked up the club and swung hard. The brute pitched forward onto his face and rose no more.

Looking around, he called, "Who will be next?"

Crazed with fear and spitting with rage, the remaining giants rose as one and charged Bran, who ran to meet them, growing bigger with every step until he was a head taller than the tallest. Four blows were thrown, one after another, and four giants fell, leaving only the enormous chieftain still on his feet. Not only bigger, he was also quicker than the others, and before Bran could turn, he reached out and seized Bran by the throat. Drawing a deep breath, Bran willed his neck to become a column of white granite; with all his strength the giant chieftain could not break that thick column.

Meanwhile, Bran took hold of the giant's protruding ears. Grabbing one in each hand, he yanked hard, pulling the giant chieftain forward and driving the point of his granite chin right between the odious monster's bulging eyes. The giant's knees buckled, and he tumbled backwards like a toppled pine tree, striking his head on the stone floor and expiring before he could draw his next breath.

Triumphant, Bran strode to the hearth and plucked the stillbubbling cauldron from the flames. Grasping the miraculous pot in his strong arms of stone, Bran walked from the castle of bone, back to the world outside, where he once again met the ancient hag who was waiting for him.

The hag jumped up and scurried to meet him. "Truly, you are a mighty champion!" she cried. "From this day you are my husband."

Bran glanced at her askance. "Lady, if lady you be, I am no such thing," he declared. "You said I would achieve my greatest desire, and marriage to you is far from that. And even if I were so minded, I could not, for I am promised to another."

The wild-haired hag opened her gaping, toothless mouth and laughed in Bran's face. "0 man of little understanding! Do you not know that whoever possesses the Cauldron of Rebirth is the Lord of the Forest: He is my husband, and I am his wife." Reaching out, she seized him with her scaly, clawlike hands and pressed her drooling lips close to his face.

Repulsed, Bran reared back and shook off her grip. He started to run away, but she pursued him with uncanny swiftness. Bran changed himself into a stag and bolted away at speed, but the hag became a wolf and raced after him. When Bran saw that he could not elude her that way, he changed into a rabbit; the hag changed into a fox and matched him stride for stride. When he saw that she was gaining on him, Bran changed into an otter, slid into the clear-running stream, and swam away. The hag, however, changed into a great salmon and caught him by the tail.

Bran felt the hag's teeth biting into him and leapt from the stream, dragging the salmon with him. Once out of the water, the salmon loosed its hold, and instantly Bran turned into a raven and flew away.

But the hag, now become an eagle, flew up, seized him in her strong talons, and pulled him from the sky. "You led me on a fine chase, but I have caught you, my proud raven!" she cackled with glee, resuming her former repulsive shape. "And now you must marry me."

Squirming and pecking at the bony fingers clasped tightly around him, Bran, still in the form of a raven, cried, "I never will! I have promised myself to another. Even now she is waiting for me on the shining shore."

"Bran, Bran," said the hag, "do you not know that I am that selfsame woman?" Smiling grotesquely, she told him all that had happened to him since meeting him that very morning on the strand where she went every day in the guise of a beautiful lady to search for a champion to become her mate. "It was myself you promised to take to wife," she concluded. "Now lie with me and do your duty as a husband."

Horrified, Bran cried out, "I never will!"

"Since you refuse," said the old woman, still clutching him between her hands, "you leave me no choice!" With that, she spat into her right hand and rubbed her spittle on Bran's sleek head, saying, "A raven you are, and a raven you shall remain-until the day you fulfil your vow to take me to wife."

The hag released Bran then, and he found that though he could still change his shape at will-now one creature, now another-he always assumed the form of a raven in the end. Thus, he took up his duties as Rhi Bran the Hud, Lord of the Forest, whom some call the Dark Enchanter of the Wood. And from that day to this, he abides as a great black raven still.

The last note faded into silence. Laying aside the harp, Angharad gazed at the rapt young man before her and said, "That is the song of King Raven. Dream on it, my son, and let it be a healing dream to you.